


Fragile Illusions

by Whiitewolf



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiitewolf/pseuds/Whiitewolf
Summary: JJ wakes up one day only to be told that her life as a profiler isn't real, and that she's having a mental break. Some days she wakes up as Agent Jareau. And others, she's in a mental institution. She's not sure which is real. She's not sure what to do. Now she has decisions to make, and sometimes the people you trust betray you.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic a long time ago. I currently have 7 chapters of it written. I'm still trying to plan out the ending, but people really seemed to enjoy it, so I'm giving it another go. 
> 
> There will be appearances from the team. The first chapter is a bit boring to get things started off a bit. 
> 
> Thank you for checking it out!
> 
> I also just started a prompts forum on fanfiction.net, please check out the link in my profile! It is a way to get reviews, and inspiration.

_Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock_. The seconds dragged on, making the profiler's anxiety rise by the minute. JJ shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She thought the couch should be soft, perhaps squishy. It should be relaxing. After all, it was in a therapy office. But the couch did not help her to unwind or loosen up, or relax in any way. Instead, she found it very much like sitting on a wooden chair. No matter how many times she adjusted, there was no getting comfortable. The room in general was sterile and severe, not just the couch. The walls were plain white and without art or any other decoration except an abundance of certificates which were likely supposed to inspire confidence in the doctor. Instead, they bothered her in a way she couldn't quite pinpoint. This room didn't put you at ease. It felt more like a clean, clinical hospital room than a place in which to open up about one's emotions. That was what she expected, to be put at ease or at least see an attempt on the psychologist's part. She'd expected to see a personable room, which was almost home like. But instead, she was here. Though, she doubted the room itself would make much of a difference in how she was feeling.

She hated this. She hated being here. The framed qualifications on the wall behind Dr. Genoe were very off-putting, and the ticking of the clock seemed strangely loud, adding to her aggravation. She began to tap her foot lightly on the floor. "Feeling a bit more fidgety than normal today?" Dr. Genoe asked, her eyebrows raised as she watched the woman in front of her, her notebook open and her pen raised.

JJ pointedly ignored the rhetorical question.

JJ's eyes darted toward the clock on the wall. There was still another agonizing half hour to go.

"Is there any way we can cut this short, today?" JJ asked hopefully.

"Well. I don't think that'd be a good idea. We haven't made any progress today. I'd like to at least get to know a little about you in our first session," Dr. Genoe replied, trying for a patient tone.

"This isn't the first person I've seen die. Why am I forced into seeing a psychologist, this time?"

"Who did you see die?"

"I saw someone who was killed by... who was a victim of the murderer in Florida," JJ said, her voice sounding just a bit confused. That was the main reason she'd been forced into these sessions, so what else would the doctor be referring to? As it this counselling session continued, she found that every single time Dr. Genoe scribbled down notes on her notepad, JJ's frustration increased.

"The murderer in Florida? Did you find out who he was?" Dr. Genoe inquired curiously, glancing at JJ over the tops of her glasses.

"My team and I did. Why is this relevant?"

"Because it seems like you feel as though you failed the victim by being too slow, like you should have figured it out sooner."

"Actually, I don't feel that way. I wasn't the one that put it together. Reid figured it out, and none of us could have done it faster, if at all. He saw the pattern. I don't blame anyone in this but the killer. Of course I wish things were different, that we had saved that girl, but I wish the entire world was different. I wish our unit didn't need to exist because that would mean there were no more horrific crimes. But we do exist, and what we do saves lives," JJ stopped suddenly, feeling like she'd said all of that in a single breath and now needed a moment to collect herself.

"You're angry, I can see that. I understand that you blame the killer, but is any part of you angry at this Reid?"

"Of course not," JJ snapped. She'd been trying. She knew it wasn't the psychologist's fault she had to be here and that she was doing her best. However, JJ felt like all the certificates on the wall didn't mean this psychologist had any idea what she was talking about. This was all pointless. There was also the fact she'd said, "this Reid." It sounded like she didn't know who he was? As an FBI appointed psychologist, shouldn't she have been aware of who he was? Shouldn't she have some sort of background of the members on her team or at the very least, know their names?

The doctor scribbled more notes. JJ shot another careful glance at the clock. She saw there were still fifteen minutes left in the time set out for this session. That was close enough, wasn't it?

"Look, I have a lot of paperwork to do," JJ said quickly and impatiently, getting off the couch.

"Paperwork? For what?" Dr. Genoe said with a tone of surprise, looking up at JJ.

"Paperwork is part of my job," JJ said, resisting the childish urge to roll her eyes. She should know all this! Even if this was JJ's first session, the doctor should know that part of working at the FBI involved paperwork. In fact, most jobs required paperwork.

"What's your job exactly?" the doctor asked curiously.

JJ groaned, and though she was frustrated, she didn't want to be rude. Sitting back down, she looked up and met the psychologist's eyes. Did Dr. Genoe actually not know? How could she not? Or was she simply trying to get her talking about her job in hopes of making what she would define as 'progress'? "I'm a profiler. I work in a team in the Behaviour Analysis Unit," JJ told her.

"You study human behaviour to catch serial killers?"

"Yes. We use it to aid in the catching and identification of serial killers, and a variety of other criminals."

"I see," Dr. Genoe said, writing some more notes down.

I see? That was all she had to say.

"Look, I get you have a job to do but I'm afraid I'm cutting this short. I don't feel this is a productive use of my time." JJ blocked out whatever the psychologist tried to say to her and walked out of the office. It wasn't even worth a glance back.

* * *

Sandy Jareau placed her head in her hands. She sounded almost hopeless as she asked, "There's no improvement?"

The man in the white coat shook his head as he told her, "I'm sorry to say in the couple of weeks Jennifer has been here, there's been no improvement. It appears she's suffering from the delusion that she's an FBI Agent. It seems to be very real to her. When Dr. Genoe spoke to her, she was convinced she'd been forced into the sessions due to witnessing the death of a victim."

Ashley bit her lip and reached over to give her mum's hand a squeeze. "It's okay, mum. Jenny will get better. She's a fighter," Ashley reassured her mother. A flicker of guilt appeared on her face as she recalled the suicide attempt she had made in her late teens, that sent her family spiralling.

"When can we see her?" Sandy asked.

"You can see her tomorrow, but I think it might be better to hold off on Ashley seeing her."

"Why?" Ashley demanded before her mother could say anything.

"Because in the persona of Agent Jareau, it appears Jennifer thinks Ashley killed herself when Jennifer was 11 years old. I think we will need to approach that with delicacy."

A silence fell over the room, which was broken only by the sound of Sandy's sobs. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. Sandy was losing hope that she'd ever have her daughter back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic a long time ago. I currently have 7 chapters of it written. I'm still trying to plan out the ending, but people really seemed to enjoy it, so I'm giving it another go.
> 
> There will be appearances from the team. The first chapter is a bit boring to get things started off a bit.
> 
> Thank you for checking it out!
> 
> I also just started a prompts forum on fanfiction.net, please check out the link in my profile! It is a way to get reviews, and inspiration.

"What? What on earth are you talking about?" JJ asked in a shocked tone, her voice echoing in the stubbornly silent room. The cracking in her voice wasn't missed by anyone. Her eyes darted around, scanning everything. There were no windows. The only doorway was blocked by two of the workers. It gave her a strange, unsettling feeling. She felt trapped, like she was in a prison. The plain white walls did nothing to soothe her worries, but instead, magnified them. Colour would have made a huge difference in easing JJ's mind. Perhaps some paintings on the walls.

"Jennifer," Sandy began carefully, reaching to take her daughter's hands.

"No. Is this some joke? I don't understand. What's going on?" JJ demanded, not easily distracted. Why was she here? Why was she surrounded by doctors? And why were they all looking at her in pity? A thought occurred to her, and she felt panic rising in her chest. Had something happened to Will? To Henry? To one of the people on her team? More than one?

The sudden change in Jennifer's voice caused Sandy to flinch. Her daughter was practically yelling at her, and she didn't know what to do. "No, no honey, it's not a joke. But you're going to get better," She said in a soothing tone. It took all her effort to sound convincing, not only for her daughter, but for herself too. Sandy had to remain positive, no matter what happened.

"Get better? What do you mean get better?" JJ pulled herself back as far away from her mother as possible. She made a point of avoiding looking at her mother, pretending she couldn't see the pain on her mother's face.

"Sweetie, you're very sick. These doctors just want to help you," Sandy replied softly.

"No! I'm not crazy. I'm not sick. I want to speak to Hotch, or Reid, or Garcia, or Emily... Or... Or. I want to speak to someone on my team, please," JJ said forcefully, almost shouting. She flew up from the chair and was immediately pushed back down by one of the workers. "Don't touch me! I want to speak to them. They'll fix this. I'm not crazy."

Dr. Genoe leaned back and sighed. After her sessions, it made sense for Jennifer to ask for her 'boss', or Reid. From what the doctor had gathered, Reid was a very smart man. Garcia was a close friend, and Emily, though not on the team, was one of Jennifer's friends as well. There was no surprise in her requests, which made it all the more difficult. Jennifer wasn't going to accept this easily.

"Or David Rossi?" Dr. Genoe offered calmly, watching the blonde's expression change from fear to hope and then relief.

"Yes! Is he here? Is that why you asked? This is all some misunderstanding. Maybe I was drugged, or something. I don't know. I want this to be fixed so I can go back home to Will and my son," JJ said as she grasped onto this like a piece of floating driftwood in an ocean that threatened to drown her.

Sandy's fingers twitched, as the now familiar feeling of heartbreak grew stronger. A husband? A son? Where had her daughter come up with these ideas? Jennifer seemed to truly believe they were real. Sandy felt all of her nerves standing on edge, and she stood up to take some deep breaths. She didn't know what else she could do.

"Is this him?" Dr. Genoe asked Jennifer, handing her a novel and showing her the author's picture on the back cover. It had taken her awhile to figure out that the figures Jennifer spoke of in her elaborate fantasy world seemed connected to real people, and were not purely creations of her imagination.

"Yes! But, I don't recognize this book," JJ said with a hopeful voice, which dropped as her brows wrinkled in confusion.

"You know all his books?" Dr. Genoe asked curiously.

"I've read them all, but not this one," JJ broke off to close the book and read the back. "A fictional mystery novel? No, he writes... that's not what he... no, he doesn't write fictional young adult mysteries."

Ignoring her patient's obvious bewilderment at this, Dr. Genoe reached into a file and grabbed something else. She held out a page from a newspaper, "Is this your Penelope Garcia?"

Again, the recognition on JJ's face was powerful, enough to cause sobs in her mother. However, when JJ had looked over what was in front of her, she once again appeared confused "This isn't right," JJ said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. She quickly read the page over again, as if hoping the article would magically change to fit with what she knew to be true.

Dr. Genoe was finally able to begin putting some things together. The article she'd shown Jennifer was about a computer hacker that had been caught and arrested by the FBI a year ago. The pattern continued of hope and confusion continued, as the doctor showed her patient an article about a Dr. Spencer Reid, who was apparently well renowned for his work and research on schizophrenia. And again when she showed Jennifer the website of a legal firm, with a picture of a lawyer by the name of Aaron Hotchner. Each time, the blonde grew more and more distressed, as Dr. Genoe continued with facts about a Chicago police officer named Derek Morgan, and an old news report of the death of Emily Prentiss, a suspected Interpol agent. That last fact had never been confirmed.

Finally, the doctor showed Jennifer a news article about an Alex Blake, an FBI agent who lost her job shortly after 9/11 after rather publicly botching a case.

"This isn't right," JJ said, her entire voice trembling, "This. This can't be right. None of this is right," she stated, her voice full of shock. JJ held the article about Alex Blake tightly clenched in her hand. As she glanced down at the now crumpled paper, her stomach turned. Her chin trembled in frustration, the water building up her eyes. She blinked them back. No, there had to be an explanation. Someone was playing a joke on her. Granted, it wasn't a funny joke, but that was the only possibility. Some kind of sick, twisted joke.

Sighing, Dr. Genoe methodically set everything back on her desk. Her training and experience as a psychologist hadn't prepared her for anything like this. She didn't know what to say. It'd taken her hours, using the information Jennifer had given her, to find these people. She had first recognized the description of Dr. Spencer Reid and had realized the character in Jennifer's fantasy might be based on a real person. This led her to search for real life connections to the other people Jennifer had described. Dr. Genoe been right, all those characters had a basis in the real world.

"Honey, look at me," Sandy said as she came back into the room. Having been so distracted, JJ hadn't noticed her mother had even left. "There's someone who would like to see you."

JJ shook her head. There was no one she wanted to see, unless it was someone on her team, coming to let her out of this place and assure her that this cruel joke was done. There was nothing she could say. In fact, JJ couldn't even get her voice to work.

"Jenny?"

The voice shook her out of her mind, out of her distress. It'd been years, but that voice struck her like a bolt of lightning. JJ's head snapped up to see the woman enter. She'd aged. She was different. But almost everything was the same as JJ remembered. From the blonde hair that echoed her own, to the sharp blue eyes.

"Ashley?" JJ choked out, "No. No. You're dead. You're... No. This. This isn't right."

"I think that's enough for today," the older looking doctor in the white coat said in a tone that made it clear he expected his word to be final. He had been notably silent up to this point. His name tag identified him as Dr. Gordon. "Jennifer, it's time to go back to your room," he told her in the kind of soft but firm tone one might use in speaking to a child who you expected to do as they were told. He'd said it was a bad idea for Ashley to see Jennifer, but had allowed the family's desperation and his own frustration at a lack of progress to override his better judgment. And, unfortunately, he'd been proven right.

"No. You can't keep me here. I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy," JJ objected, jumping up to try to escape his grasp. Doubts began to surface in her mind. She had no doubts about her team, no, she knew they existed. But the sight of an older Ashley was not something JJ could understand, not something that made any sense to her. She had to see Reid, to talk this out with him. Surely, he would be able to help. He'd have some explanation she was sure.

"Don't touch me!" JJ screamed when a hand grasped her arm.

Her heart began to race, pounding in her chest, echoing much like the beating of drums in her ears. Her profiler instincts were noticing things and she wasn't liking what she was picking up. The slight nod Dr. Gordon gave one of the workers gave her a sick feeling. She realized it was best to play along. With an effort, she made herself settle down. The worker's hand reaching for the syringe made her still immediately. "I'm sorry," she whispered, valiantly trying to control her breathing. "It's been a long day."

"I know," Dr. Gordon told her, his tone both sympathetic and calm, "But we just want to help you, Jennifer." He smiled at her, his kind, brown eyes watching her closely.

"That's all we want to do," Dr. Genoe agreed.

She nodded compliantly, but the instant the worker released her arm, JJ struck him right in the face. And out of the corner of her eye she saw him reach up to his nose, from which blood was already spilling. Her breathing came out in little gasps, which she struggled to keep under control.

The second worker made a move to grab JJ and she swung at him too, but her leg caught on the chair and she fell. Despite this, she didn't slow down. She scratched her right arm when she reached for the desk, and the tickle that followed let her know she was bleeding. That was a matter for JJ to worry about later, after she got out of here.

She'd kicked the second worker away before getting back on her feet. Then she felt it. It wasn't overly painful, just a small pinch. And even as she made efforts to stop it, JJ knew it was too late. Already, she felt a level of grogginess kicking in, like a blanket had been thrown over her limbs. She looked over to see her sister holding her mother. Both of them looked at JJ with shock and horror on their faces. There was hardly time to think, but a wave of fear welled up in her before everything went black.

With a gasp, JJ opened her eyes. She reacted instantly, tumbling out of her bed. There was no doubt about it, she had to get away.

"JJ?" asked a familiar voice. "Are you alright?"

Soon enough, her eyes adjusted to the dark. She saw her bed. Her dresser. Her room. And her mind clicked as she recognized that familiar accent. "Will?" JJ said disbelievingly. She was filled with relief. It'd been a dream. That was all. It was just an awful dream. All the terror she'd felt, the worry about never seeing Henry or Will again. The confusion about her team. It had been nothing but a dream.

And then she was filled with pain and grief and confusion, as she recalled her sister's presence. The familiar sound of her voice. The tears came, and she didn't make a move to get up.

"That must have been some dream," Will said with confusion. He leaned over to see where she'd fallen. "And that must have been some fall."

JJ looked at him in bemusement before following his eyes to a bleeding cut on her right arm.


	3. Chapter 3

"JJ?"

She splashed a bit more water on her face from the bathroom sink, before turning to face her concerned friend. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay? You seem a little off," Garcia said, letting her voice trail off, "Is it about the case?"

The last case had been a seriously rough one, that was true. Toddlers had been abducted, raped and eventually dumped in ditches, rivers and trash bins. It had been incredibly emotionally painful for every team member, but JJ was a mother. That added a layer of awfulness. Garcia watched her friend carefully, her eyes examining the blonde profiler's expression and response.

"I-I think so," JJ responded shakily. It was true that the case had torn her apart, but that wasn't all that was bothering her.

"I think Reid's pretty broken up too. In fact, I think he's being pretty hard on himself. He's saying that a lot of the blame should be on him, personally."

"It wasn't his fault. I mean, he was the one who figured it out. None of us could have figured it out as quickly as he did, much less faster," JJ said, clearly objecting to the news that the young genius was distraught, thinking that this was somehow his fault. That he could have prevented it. "It's no one's fault but the monster who did this."

"I know," Garcia said, holding the door open for her friend to exit the bathroom, "I just wish he believed that."

JJ examined her hands quite thoroughly. She had to speak to another psychologist? Well, had the other one actually been real? And this one was addressing her as Agent. The other hadn't, but she supposed that was because the other one told her this wasn't real. That one claimed she wasn't an FBI Agent, nor had she helped save lives. That psychologist told JJ it was all in her head.

"Agent Jareau? I asked if you understood why you were here," Dr. Johnston inquired, glancing at the young Agent over her glasses.

This chair was much more comfy. The room was more welcoming, from the colourful pictures to the squishy rug at her feet. "I'm here because we witnessed the death of a child," JJ said softly. Hotch had made her and Reid go see the bureau psychologist. She assumed it was because she and Reid had been the only ones present when the child had died. The rest of the team arrived just a bit later.

"That's correct," Dr. Johnston told her, scribbling something down in her notepad. But for some reason, this was a lot less aggravating than Dr. Genoe's note taking. "You have to understand, Agent, that it's normal to feel guilty, helpless even. And even scared."

"Why would I be scared?" JJ asked, with a bit of a defensive tone.

"You have a son of your own, do you not? It's normal to worry about what his experiences in this world will be."

JJ looked down at her hands again, silently considering this. It was true that this job made her constantly afraid for Henry. However, she could not let these fears disrupt her focus. Many thoughts kept running through her mind, and one name remained constant. Ashley. That dream, or whatever that had been, was very unsettling to think about. It'd been easy enough to believe the scratch on her arm came from her fall off the bed, and not the event that took place in that nightmare. But Ashley had been on her mind, ever since.

"I think I could use a couple personal days," JJ said calmly, looking up to meet Dr. Johnston's eyes, "To be with my son."

"Of course," Dr. Johnston replied, her eyes widening slightly in shock. She hadn't expected that, not at all. She'd expected to fight with the Agent. "I'll talk to Agent Hotchner."

"Then can I go?" Jennifer asked hopefully, feeling relief soaring through her chest. This psychologist offered up Hotch's name. The other hadn't known anything about her, her job or her team. That wasn't the case here, not at all.

Dr. Johnston frowned. They hadn't even made it half way through the session. "Fine, but I'll see you when you get back."

"Of course. That's fine, thank you."

_"What do you mean taking off for a couple days?" Will had asked her._

_"I'm going to see my family," JJ had responded matter-of-factly._

_"We'll come with you," he offered, trying to mask the frustration in his voice, "I've only met your mother the once."_

_"It'll only be a couple days," she'd responded, a small plea entering her voice. She didn't want him there. She needed to be alone and she certainly didn't want to fight._

_Will sighed. She was gone so often for work, and now she was disappearing on him again? "I understand," he forced out before rolling over to go to sleep._

JJ rubbed her forehead. She could feel a slight headache threatening to get worse. She knew she'd upset Will, even though that was the last thing she had wanted to do. As she parked the car, she hesitated. This wasn't something she'd done for awhile, and it felt unfamiliar and strange. Letting out the breath she'd been holding, she tugged gently at her necklace. Her sister's necklace.

She wasn't even aware of getting out of the car. It seemed like only moment later, she was right beside the grave. She knelt down and reached forward to touch the head stone.

"Hey Ash, it's been awhile," JJ said softly, as if Ashley were there beside her.

JJ chewed down on her bottom lip as she reached behind her to grab the flowers she had picked up on the way.

"I still think about you every day, you know. I wonder if there was anything I could have done or said, anything that would have let you fight through whatever pain you were feeling." Swallowing the lump in her throat, JJ paused to take a few calming breaths. It'd taken years for her to let go of that guilt and the anger she felt at her sister, and even more to forgive herself and Ashley. Yet despite all the healing she'd done, it still hurt. It still stung that her sister had left her life so early, and in the way she had.

Carefully, she laid the flowers out. The roses gave the grave a somewhat peaceful feel, and JJ leaned back again.

"I don't know what's going on. I think I might be losing my mind. I spoke to you yesterday, but not really. I-I don't know."

Though she'd promised herself that she wouldn't cry, the tears came over her and she was powerless to stop them.

* * *

"Jennifer, it's okay," the voice told her soothingly.

Struggling, she somehow opened her eyes. She squeezed them shut again almost instantly. The bright light she had opened them to was both painful and blinding. But that voice...

"I visited your grave yesterday," JJ said calmly. She opened her eyes fully, not bothering to go slowly and let them adjust.

"No, Jennifer, you know that's not true," Ashley protested.

"I did. And then I went to mom's house where I saw pictures of you above the fire place. But the funny thing is, there's none after your grade 11 year. No senior pictures, no graduation pictures. Not a single photo. Because you never made it through high school."

"Jenny-"

"It's JJ."

"What?" Ashley asked, her brows wrinkling.

"No one calls me Jenny," JJ said, her voice beginning to tremble. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she was very well aware of the white room and the fact that she was strapped down onto a bed.

"They had to tie you down after your little episode yesterday," Ashley said, the pain in her voice not easily missed, "Mom couldn't stand to see you like this, so she went home to get some sleep."

"Yesterday? No," JJ responded with a smooth, steady voice, "Yesterday, I told you, I went to visit your grave." Despite the fact she knew that her efforts would be futile, JJ tugged at the restraints.

"No, that's not real. That wasn't real. I'm right here." She reached forward to take her younger sister's hand. There was nothing she could do, and she felt helpless but maybe, at the least, she could offer some comfort.

"Don't touch me! You're dead!" JJ exclaimed, with an unsteady tone that seemed to be a mix of anger, fear and sadness. All of the calm of a moment ago had left JJ's voice. She felt lost in a swirl of emotions, with nothing to ground her or comfort her.

Ashley recoiled as sharply as if she'd been slapped in the face. "Jennifer!" Ashley cried out, feeling tears welling in her eyes, "Please don't say that. I'm right here."

JJ collected herself, and regained control of her voice. "I laid flowers on your grave," she said coldly, "You're not real. Please, leave me alone."

"I want to stay. I want to be here for you. I don't want to-"

"If you want to help me, then leave," JJ repeated.

Each word felt like a silent stab in her chest. Ashley ran out, hoping to get out of there before the tears fell.

The quietness was overwhelming, and JJ could hear each beat of her heart. The room was incredibly bright, the strong lighting being further enhanced by the white of everything inside, from the padded walls to the blank ceiling. It had been extremely difficult to be so cold to her sister. It had hurt her heart. But she couldn't entertain these delusions. If she let herself accept her sister was alive. If she accepted that she was feeling her touch and hearing her voice, she knew she would only be in for a bigger heartbreak when the illusion was shattered. There was nothing she wanted more than to believe it, even for a second. There was nothing JJ wanted more than to tell Ashley how much she loved her. But the pain she'd feel when she had to let go again wasn't something Jennifer could stand to experience.

"I'm sorry, Ash," JJ whispered before leaning back to close her eyes. And she couldn't help but wonder what she'd see when she woke up.


End file.
